Part 11 (1/2)

The man still stared at John as though he saw a fairy. But now he threw the door wide open. ”Enter,” he said. ”I cannot refuse you.

Enter my house. You shall have a bed and supper, fair boy; but what of these?” and he turned troubled eyes upon the animals.

”Nay,” said John simply, ”I ask no better bed than theirs, my fellow pilgrims. Thank you for your hospitality, kind friend. May we all sleep in your stable? My animals are quite safe company. They will hurt nothing that hurts not me.”

John smiled then in his happy, trustful way, and the face of the man looking into his brightened as if by reflection. His coa.r.s.e mouth broadened into a smile.

”They shall sleep soundly in the hay,” said he kindly, ”though it be against the law. I will risk even the bear and the wolf for the sake of that you wear about your neck. But the stable and the company of beasts are not fit for the like of you. That I know, though you be in rags. Come into the house, young stranger.”

”Have you forgotten,” said John gently, ”how once a stable sheltered the greatest King of all among the humblest beasts? I have often had worse beds than a pile of sweet straw. I shall be happy enough among my friends.”

The man hung his head for a moment, then raised it and looked at John strangely.

”I _had_ forgotten,” he said. ”Who are you? Who are you who talk so wisely, and who wear that silver Cross upon you?”

”I am John, the Hermit's pupil, and I am very tired,” was the answer.

”May we not rest now? To-morrow perhaps we will show you some pretty tricks to pay for our night's lodging.”

”_John_,” mused the man, ”that is a good name! I want no pay from any one who bears that name.” And still eyeing John strangely, he led the way to the stable door.

He bade them good-night; and thereupon the straw the two-footed and four-footed pilgrims rested peacefully together, nestled in a warm ma.s.s of fur and feathers, flaxen hair, and woolen rags.

In the morning the farmer brought them food, and his family came with him to see the strange visitors. For so many animals had never before been seen together in that country. John put Bruin and Brutus through their tricks, and the children clapped their hands joyously at the sight. Then John himself tumbled and danced for them, and they were in an ecstasy.

At the end of the performance they clung about the boy's neck and flung themselves upon the animals, declaring that they must not go away, and begging them to stay forever.

But John shook his head, smiling. ”I must be off,” he said. ”I must do the King's errand.”

And so they went upon their way, the children watching them wistfully out of sight. But the farmer went with them some little distance to point out the road; and when he left them he spoke a last word of warning.

”The King has no love of animals,” he said. ”There are none in all the kingdom save those for use and those he hunts to kill. There are no pets nor playmates for the children; no birds even in his forests.

Beware his wrath, my lad, when he has word of your caravan.”

”I am going to the King,” said John simply. ”We go to save the life of his son.”

The farmer stared again at John with a strange expression. ”You, to save his life!” he muttered. ”I cannot understand it all!” And he pa.s.sed his hand over his forehead.

”I have some skill at healing. Farewell!” cried John gaily. ”We shall be safe, I know.”

”Ay, with that silver thing on your neck,” said the man to himself, shading his eyes to watch them out of sight. ”John; the Hermit's pupil; a boy with the knowledge of healing, and a smile,--Saint Francis! What a smile! He is like our holy John come back again as a child. Who can he be?” And he crossed himself devoutly as he went back to his work.

But John and his friends went st.u.r.dily upon their way. Up and down hills they traveled; along dusty roads; through lonely stretches of moor and plain. They caused great excitement in the villages through which they pa.s.sed. It was years since the townsfolk had seen a dancing bear; years even since they had enjoyed the frolics of a cat and kittens. The raven was a source of delight. The birds that followed overhead and came at John's call, perching on his arms and shoulders, filled the children with envy. The wolf looked so fierce that they were afraid of him; but his brother Brutus was petted in a way to spoil any ordinary dog. Yet he kept his temper and his poise, and endured their homage meekly.

Often, in the country through which they pa.s.sed, John found sick persons to whom he could bring relief, and gladly he used the knowledge which the Hermit had taught him. It seemed that there were few in that land who had the skill of healing, and many of the sick had long suffered for lack of the simple remedies which John had often used for his pets. He saved several lives. Oh! that was joy for John! The people were very grateful, and would have paid him anything he wished.

But all he asked was food or shelter for himself and his friends. Then they spoke his name softly and kissed his hands, which made John laugh.

John found it easy enough to earn all the food he needed in the villages. Remembering his mountebank days, he had but to hold a little performance in the public square. Every one would hurry to see Bruin do his tricks and John himself turn somersaults and walk on his hands; after which the bear would dance and pa.s.s the hat, into which the pennies rained generously.

But it was harder to find lodgings for the night. Knowing the King's hatred for animals, men feared to shelter this caravan. Only when John would pull from his breast the talisman of silver would they soften and yield to his wishes, wondering and almost wors.h.i.+ping, as the farmer had done on that first day. John himself was the most wondering of them all. For he saw no reason why the silver Cross should have such power.